


Time is a Funny Thing

by BackattheBein



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BackattheBein/pseuds/BackattheBein
Summary: Everyone is born with a timer on their wrist, counting down to the moment they will meet their soulmate. Virgil has waited all his life to meet his, but what happens when he does will shock and confuse him... This is the story of how one man who thought he didn't deserve even one soulmate got more than he could ever have imagined.





	1. An Unexpected Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, gals, and enby pals! This is a variation on the timer soulmate au trope that I've had on the back burner for a while now. I finally posted it to Tumblr a few weeks ago and figured, since AO3 finally cleaned up the Sanders Sides tag, I'd upload it here to get some more visibility. I do have a tag list going on tumblr, if you'd like to be added just send me an ask or a message. New chapters will be posted on my tumblr @backatthebein and here. Enjoy!

Everyone is born with a timer built into the wrist of their dominant hand which varies from slightly stylized to very ornate. Decorating the timer itself are symbols of the soulmates themselves, which appear on all parties’ respective timers. People tend to intrinsically value, or rather society has taught them they should value, timers that are overdramatic, brightly colored, and very detailed.

Because of this, Virgil had been… Well, he had never been treated greatly. People seemed less interested in him and his time, less concerned with worrying about him and interacting with him. He felt ostracized. His timer had no designs on it. It was rather simple and elegant, and at first he liked it for its simplicity. He appreciated it; his classmates beat it into him that he was even lucky to have one.

At a very young age, Virgil took on a darker persona to try and hide the insecurities these interactions brought on. He was diagnosed with anxiety as a teenager, and he suspected it was due to the fears, the way people stared at him, the way his brain told them that they were judging him and finding him unworthy, despite the fact that he too had a timer counting down to the exact moment when he would meet his soulmate. Not to mention many of his childhood friends – like Joan, Talyn, Valerie, Elliot and so many others – met their soulmates well before they turned 18.

Not only that, but he’d suffered years of being told by his peers that he shouldn’t even have a timer, that he was not worthy and that he was depriving his soulmate of someone better.

Despite the fact that he has this ever winding timer right on his wrist where he can see it just fine, he was still thrown when it finally happened.

He had just started at university, where against his parents’ wishes he had declared an art major. While Virgil was extremely talented, they did not believe in the viability of a career in that industry.

One day, he went to the library to borrow a textbook for his art history class. He decided to sit down at a computer and check his email. Seeing a PDF from one of his lecturers, he attempted to print it out, only to discover the printer was jammed.

For some reason, instead of just giving up and going back to his dorm like he usually did, Virgil decided to complain to the people at the resources desk. He was paying so much to go to college, _they should at least have one working printer available to the students?!_

As he approached the desk, he saw that there was only one person working there at the moment. From what he could tell from his vantage point, the guy was tall and lanky, with gorgeous dark brown hair and bangs that were falling ever so slightly over his eyes, and thick, black rimmed glasses. His black button up shirt brought out the paleness of his skin. Virgil laughed inwardly; looks like someone could finally give him a run for his money for Most Likely to Secretly be a Vampire.

By the time he reached the desk, Virgil had sort of forgotten why he had even approached it in the first place. Thankfully, he didn’t have to remember, because what happened next spurred on a rather more pressing topic of conversation.

As their eyes connected, and the bespectacled gentleman opened his mouth to speak, both men simultaneously felt their wrists begin to tingle. They didn’t burn so much as vibrate pleasantly, as if alive with nervous energy, but only in one very specific, very small, and very noticeable part of their wrists.

They both looked down at their wrists immediately, and Virgil couldn’t help it as he inhaled sharply. _Oh my god,_ he thought, _holy fuck! The thing! My timer! So this is happening right now oh my god –_

“Well,” said the man behind the counter, clearing his throat. “It would appear that we are soulmates. Allow me to introduce myself,” offering his hand to shake. “Logan Sanders.”

Virgil took in a short, quick breath, trying to force his mind to stop spiraling. He gingerly reached out and took the stranger’s – Logan’s – hand. “Virgil Knight,” he said, thankful that his voice didn’t shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Virgil. Even though we both knew exactly what time this was going to happen, it seems to still have caught us both quite off guard.”

Virgil hummed noncommittally. He scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes to the floor to hide his blush.

It was only when his eyes were drawn back to his wrist that he finally noticed something was wrong.

When soulmates meet, not only do their timers zero out, beeping faintly and causing their wrists to burn, but after a few moments they are supposed to fade away. The timers melt, disappear, and leave the flesh unharmed and unmarked.

Virgil stood, mouth agape, at the timer still on his wrist.

“How strange,” Logan said, now looking at his own wrist after witnessing the confusion spread across Virgil’s features. “I clearly felt my wrist burn, and I will assume that you did too, our timers zeroed out, yet both our m—”

Just as Logan was trying to explain their situation away, their wrists began to glow in tandem. There was no burning this time, just a surprisingly intense light.

Once the light faded, Virgil gasped.

Their timers were still there.

But they – or at least Virgil’s – looked different. It now seemed … how to describe it … more cartoonish? There was a pattern of little cat and dog faces on the border of the timer. The font felt more animated; it was quite the changed from the simple stylish elegance of his previous timer.

To his continued shock, he finally looked up to see that Logan’s had changed too. Around the border there were now ornate golden swirls, and the font was sharper, almost regal.

Logan also had an adorable look of confusion on his face, his brows scrunching together and forcing his glasses to slide down his nose. Reaching with his right hand, he pushed them back up and hummed again.

“How strange, indeed! Our timers have changed, maybe even evolved? Have you ever heard of this happening before, Virgil?”

Virgil shrugged noncommittally.

“I certainly have not,” Logan said, now fiddling with his glasses more than fixing them. “Perhaps I should make that my next area of study; anomalies in individual timers. At any rate, it has certainly been something meeting you today. Why don’t we exchange numbers so that we may continue this conversation later, as I am sure you have work and I am on the job?” Logan rushed out, barely pausing for breath. He would deny to his dying day that it was the nerves, the illogical metaphoric butterflies in his stomach that went aflutter whenever emo looked at him.

Virgil saw a notepad and pencil nearby and grabbed it, quickly scribbling out his phone number in what he hoped was a legible script. His handwriting wasn’t that great, and his hand was shaking the entire time too, so he wouldn’t be surprised if they never talked again. He wasn’t worthy enough to have a soulmate anyway.

But they exchanged numbers nonetheless, and for them, that was a promise. A promise to spend time together, to meet up and truly begin to get to know one another.

Virgil walked away, smiling and blushing fiercely underneath the deep purple fringe of his bangs.


	2. A Day in the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After almost two decades, Virgil met his soulmate, Logan. However, both were shocked to discover that they had more soulmates to meet. One fateful day and a short adventure leads Virgil to an intriguing discovery.

That was three years ago. Now, Virgil was in his last year of his undergrad art major, and he was trying to get a printing job in the big college town. Logan was in his post graduate studies endeavoring to teach college level history. It took a little convincing and a little soul searching, but Virgil knew that they were soulmates, regardless of the weirdness with their timers. He also began to work on his anxiety, reaching out for help after much encouragement from Logan. He still struggled, but he felt better most days than he had in a long time. It wasn’t long before the two decided to move in together, to a city apartment in a complex between their two schools.  
  
They were happy together; they had both finally found one another, and they both worked to help each other and care for each other. Their lives were most certainly better with the company, even without the added bonus of being soulmates.

They were happy, but they always wondered about their timers. They couldn’t help it, really, what with Virgil’s anxiety and Logan’s natural curiosity. Logan only sort of accidentally ended up writing his undergraduate dissertation on timers and soulmates and the few, rare cases like theirs. It was one of the reasons he was so quickly accepted into his first choice graduate university. 

It was unique, what they had. Or at least what Logan thought that they had. He’d explained it to Virgil almost a year ago.  
  
Polyamory. It was where multiple people were involved consensually, in one or more relationships, together. They could be romantic and/or sexual. Logan’s theory was that their timers didn’t fade away because they had more soulmates who they had yet to find.   
  
To say it made Virgil nervous all over again was an understatement. He never thought he was good enough for one person, let alone more. Logan had helped him some with his anxiety, but the self-deprecating thoughts hung around like shadows in his mind. Logan had some of those demons too, after years of being called “robot,” of his bullies telling him he was emotionless and that a robot like him could never love his soulmate.  
  
In spite of their demons, they grew close, and their relationship blossomed. They supported one another in ways no one ever had before. It was good. Really.  
  
But, over the course of their time together, they couldn’t help but feel like they were missing some vital part of their relationship.   
  
Neither of them would ever admit they felt that way. Every time Virgil caught himself thinking that he would feel incredibly guilty. Logan was perfect, everything he could have asked for in a soulmate. They fit together so well. But he couldn’t help but think that they needed someone who could provide a warmth that neither of them found easy to share.  
  
And then one day, both of their timers jumped down to a few hours.

Suddenly it was startlingly real for them; today, they were going to meet their other soulmates.   
  
They were both more or less on edge the entire day, trying to not get caught watching as the minutes flew by on their wrists. Instead of talking and opening up, both men dived headfirst into whatever task they could find, hoping they could finally ignore the flurry of emotions in both of their heads.  
  
It was giving Virgil quite a headache, and as much as he hated interacting with people, he knew that if he stayed in the apartment much longer he was going to snap. So, he figured he would go to the park just outside the complex and draw. It was half a conscious decision and half a necessity, as his professor had recently assigned a project centered around nature (it wasn’t due for three weeks, but he stubbornly ignored that).   
  
Virgil swiftly grabbed his sketchbook and his tool bag filled with pencils and pens and whatnot and stuffed them all into a small satchel. As he walked to the door, he stopped to give Logan a casual kiss on the cheek.   
  
Logan, as usual, had his nose in a book. Virgil nuzzled his ice cold nose against Logan’s cheek, which make Logan jolt adorably.   
  
“Just a gentle reminder,” whispered Virgil. “Make sure you eat tonight. Don’t burn yourself out, ok?” Logan turned and planted a sweet kiss on Virgil’s lips, but pulled away quickly, hoping Virgil wouldn’t notice the tips of his ears flushing red. “Be careful,” Logan said, returning his attention to his book.  
  
That earned him a fond eye roll. Virgil was out of the door shortly after. It only took about five minutes to walk to the park. He didn’t stop to enjoy the view, as their apartments weren’t exactly the nice to look at kind. The park was what he really wanted to sketch, or at least something in it.   
  
Once he got past the gates, he realized what a lovely day it was, the sun shining warmly on all the community members enjoying the park.   
  
The park was filled with people, which didn’t thrill him, but it could be entertaining, he mused, to watch the families as they passed the time. They were in a beautiful green space in a big city full of concrete greys and dull wood browns. It was a miracle the park was flourishing this well.  
  
Luckily, Virgil was able to find one lone tree that no one else had claimed yet. He casually dropped his bag then sat down, leaning his back against the sturdy trunk. The tree provided plenty of shade and was off the beaten path but still close enough that he could see the other park goers.  
  
One of whom was, well,  _damn._  
  
That was really all Virgil could think when, eyes quickly scanning the park’s occupants, an adorably attractive guy came into view. He seemed close to Virgil’s age, with sandy brown hair that was mussed up, his cheeks flushed and accenting the freckles there. He wore glasses but was currently wiping them on the grey sleeve of a cardigan that was wrapped around his shoulders in spite of the sweltering heat. Underneath, he wore a light blue polo and khakis on his short frame.  
  
Virgil felt his heart flutter.   
  
It practically leapt from his rib cage when the guy started walking towards him as he unceremoniously shoved his glasses back on his face.  
  
Virgil forced his eyes to the open sketchbook in his lap, hurriedly picking up a pencil and trying to look busy. He heard the man approach and tried not to visibly flinch when he stepped on a fallen branch.  
  
“Hiya!” He said, loudly and out of breath.  
  
Virgil looked up, his dark eyes finally connecting with soft, honey brown ones.  
  
Their wrists began to tingle.  
  
“Ohh! Oh!” Patton yelled, jumping slightly and flailing his right hand in the vague direction of his left. Virgil was too caught up in the moment to notice what Patton’s timer looked like. If he’d checked it out he would have been pleasantly surprised at how much it reminded him of Nightmare Before Christmas, especially with the little skulls bordering the numbers themselves.   
  
Vaguely Virgil registered Patton still talking animatedly. “Hey, that’s - it’s, m-my wrist – wait, a-are we soulmates?”  
  
Virgil and Patton both watched as their timers began to glow softly. When the light faded shortly thereafter, he saw that his timer was still there, almost stubbornly hanging into its prime real estate. He did notice that the pattern of dogs and cats was gone. In fact, it had morphed into something entirely different. The border now reminded him of Logan’s, a pattern of ornate gold embellishments and a countdown to —  
  
 _Three hours from now?!! Three hours and 24 minutes from now?!!_  
  
Suddenly Virgil felt a warm presence next to him. He realized Patton had dropped down to sit cross-legged next to him, just outside of the little ring of a shadow cast by the tree.  
  
“Wait, w-why is my timer still there? A-aren’t we soulmates?!” asked Patton, distress causing his voice to rise with every new question. “W-w-why is your timer still there?!!”  
  
The entire conversation seemed to float right over Virgil’s head. His mind was spinning again, swirling with more emotions that he’d felt in a long time. He had been in no way prepared to meet another soulmate. He still didn’t believe he was worthy of Logan, let alone this ray of literal sunshine sitting next to him.   
Trying to force his mind to focus through the fog, he managed to glance over at Patton’s wrist.  _He asked you like a million questions_ , his mind nearly yelled.  _You have to answer them!_  
  
He was too numb and overstimulated to realize that it looked almost exactly the same as Virgil’s timer had looked before he met Logan; the simple Art Deco influence should have felt achingly familiar.  
  
“Uh … y-yeah …” Virgil mumbled, barely keeping a full-blown panic attack at bay.  
  
Patton finally ripped his gaze away from his timer, having been fully entranced and confused, to look Virgil directly in the eye. “Oh,” he whispered, surprised and concerned at what he saw. “A-are you okay?”  
  
Virgil couldn’t answer. He felt himself slowly drawing back, burrowing into his black hoodie.  
  
“Oh, kiddo. It’s okay,” Patton spoke softly, concern showing clearly on his face. “Do you need a hug? Can I touch you, please?”  
  
Virgil, caught between a rock and a hard place, hummed noncommittally, not quite meeting Patton’s inquisitive gaze.  
  
Patton frowned, torn. “Alright, kiddo, I … think that you want to be touched, but I’m not exactly sure what you need, so I’m only going to hold your hands, ok? Nod if that’s alright.”  
  
Virgil minutely nodded his head, but it was enough for Patton to see. Gently, he pried Virgil’s hands away from where they had been balled in his hoodie. Virgil didn’t remember when they’d ended up there, but the soft fabric had been comforting.   
  
Suddenly, he wondered if holding this man’s hands was a bad idea.  _They could get attached_ , he thought.  _And if they got attached, they’d realize how much of a burden Virgil was. And if they realized how bad he was for them, then they’d want to leave, but they would feel like they couldn’t because they were supposed to be soulmates, and then they’d be unhappy forever and mad at Virgil and there’d be nothing he could do to –_  
  
“Kiddo?” Patton asked. Virgil blinked, just barely registering the voice over the hurricane of awful (and true, his mind said) thoughts. “You need to breathe, ok? Do you think you can match my breathing?”  
  
Patton lifted Virgil’s hands to his chest, letting Virgil feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.  
  
Minutes passed. Patton didn’t keep track; Virgil couldn’t.  
  
Eventually he was able to breathe normally again, and the pervasive thoughts in his mind had quieted considerably for the moment.  
  
“Hi,” said Patton softly, leaning down and trying to catch Virgil’s eyes.  
  
Virgil lifted his head and blinked, trying to bring the world back into focus.   
  
He was met with a stunning pair of soft, honey brown eyes staring at him ( ~~almost fondly~~ ) through thick, black-rimmed glasses that reminded him of Logan’s.  
  
“Hi,” Virgil croaked, throat scratchy and sore from the attack and the intensely hot weather.  
  
“Oh! I have some water with me. Let me grab it real quick,” said Patton, finally releasing Virgil’s hands.  
  
Virgil immediately brought his hands back to his chest, wringing them slightly to get the feeling back in them.   
  
Patton reached over to hand Virgil a brand-new plastic bottle of water. Virgil didn’t want to take it. He’d already roped this poor guy into helping him out of a panic attack, he shouldn’t have to give up his water too just because Virgil was a useless ball of anxiety. But his throat was killing him, and he was a selfish guy, so he took it, downing half of it immediately.  
  
“Woah there, kiddo! Maybe take it slow, okay? Are you doing a little bit better now?”  
  
Virgil was now coherent enough to see the concern etched across the other man’s adorable features. He couldn’t help thinking he was adorable, and he felt so guilty for causing him such distress over a minor attack.  
  
“Yeah,” he said, now purposefully not meeting the stranger’s gaze.  
  
“That’s good. I’m glad, kiddo.” Patton looked relieved.  
  
Virgil snorted.  _When was the last time someone called me “kiddo?,”_ he thought.  _Like who even does that?_  
  
“Aw, you’re so cute!,” Patton said through giggles. “I-I hope you don’t mind me saying that, I mean I know we just met, a-and I kinda sorta wandered over here, and then you had … you weren’t doing so hot, but that’s actually why I came over! You are hot – ya know, like, the weather is so warm? But also you’re cute – and anyway I just had to say hi.”  
  
Virgil was strongly resisting the urge to giggle too, hiding his smirk behind his sweater paws. He seriously couldn’t believe this guy. He’d just approached a random stranger in a park, zero hesitation, and instead of shying away in disgust had helped him out of a panic attack and was now gushing about how cute Virgil was?  
  
“Oh! I should introduce myself. My name’s Patton! Patton Thompson.”  
  
Patton was beaming, finally glad to have properly introduced himself to the handsome stranger. Virgil was shocked as he felt a blush start to creep down from the tips of his ears, the confidence in the stranger – Patton – undeniably alluring.

“My name is Virgil,” he said.   
  
“Virgil,” Patton repeated, feeling the weight on his tongue and finding it suited the gorgeous emo puffball sitting in front of him.  
  
 They stared at each other in companionable silence, letting the moment stretch. Virgil really had no clue what to say, but he thankfully was no longer feelings so nervous or panicked around Patton.  
  
“So, uh,” started Patton. “A-about the timers … you, uh, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about them, would you? Like, what just happened?” Patton questioned while rubbing his thumb gently over the new timer.  
  
Virgil’s eyes went wide.  _He’d completely forgotten to say anything! **Stupid!**_  
  
“Uh, yeah, I do actually. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe,” Virgil trailed off as Patton’s face lit up once again.  
  
“Really? What does it mean?”  
  
“Soulmates. Multiple soulmates,” Virgil forced out, finding that the words seemed to stick in his throat.  
  
If Patton’s previous smiles had been bright, then this one was truly blinding, like staring into the actual sun. He began flailing his arms around and opened his mouth to speak.  
  
“W-w-w-what – a-are you – tha-a-t’s – m-m-m-ultiple??!?!?” he stuttered, his barely contained excitement keeping him from getting out a complete sentence. He was still smiling so hard Virgil feared he would break his jaw from the intensity of it.  
  
“Yeah,” Virgil said, trying to remain calm and casual. “More than one. Least that’s what Logan thinks.”  
  
“Who’s Logan?” asked Patton, still smiling luminously.  
  
“My soulmate,” Virgil confessed. “I mean, one of them, I guess.”  
  
Patton gasped. Virgil couldn’t help but giggle a little at the pure excitement and surprise on Patton’s face. “You’ve met another one of your soulmates?”  
  
Virgil went on to explain how they’d met a few years ago in college and had decided to move in together about a year or so ago.   
  
“So you live together?” Patton asked. “Can I meet him?”  
  
Virgil stiffened at the question; if he invited Patton back to their apartment …  _what if he was also Logan’s soulmate? What if he wasn’t? What if the two of them got along better together and decided to leave Virgil?_  
  
Swallowing down his fears, Virgil nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go see what that nerd is up to now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3


End file.
